#gotta love some angsty twins
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“It was you all along...”
#yyh#yu yu hakusho#yukina#hiei#hiyuki#yukina is my fave from this series#gotta love some angsty twins
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[bonus] new notification!
osamu miya x reader || w/c: 1.4k
no one knows atsumu like osamu does.
This is a bonus chapter to my atsumu x reader series, new notification, but can be read standalone. Reader is a nutritionist for the Jackals.
[see masterlist here]
c/w: angsty
Growing up, sometimes Osamu would wonder what it might have been like to live in a world without Atsumu.
It's a thought that had felt improbable, and maybe even a little irrational— like thinking what it would have been like to have grown up in Hokkaido instead of Hyogo.
It was ridiculous, because the Miyas had lived and worked in Hyogo for generations— without even the whisper of a chance of ever leaving at any point in their history; and he was Osamu Miya, twin brother of Atsumu Miya.
It was how things were.
And growing up like that with lives so intertwined, meant that one way or another, Atsumu would show up at Onigiri Miya at least once a week; long after they were no longer considered a set.
(Osamu didn’t want to say it was a twin thing, because he hated people calling anything he did a twin thing… but really, it was a twin thing.)
It was routine. Atsumu would walk in around the end of the afternoon, claim a stool near the cash register, order a plate, and then chat with Osamu for a couple of hours.
(Osamu is grateful for this. He knows he hasn’t been to even a quarter as many games of Atsumu’s as Atsumu has to Onigiri Miya’s lunch rushes.)
It was routine, so he notices when something is different— he notices when Atsumu brings you, one Saturday afternoon.
These are the first words you ever say to him, over the weekend special: “Oh, oh, this is lovely.”
It’s not very busy (and well, a pretty woman was complimenting his food) so he talks a little more than he usually does. “Ya want to know what’s in it?”
“Definitely.”
“The trick is in the sauce. Ya gotta get the spice mix just right, and then whip it with some olive oil.” Osamu rattles off a list, as he rings up another customer.
Atsumu looks lost. “What the hell is fenugreek?”
“It’s a spice,” you say, as you scribble everything down on a napkin. “It’s kind of bitter, but it balances out the rest.”
He's surprised. “Yer kidding, how does anything bitter taste this good?“
“That's because it's not alone!”
“Know yer way around spices?” Osamu asks.
“She’s a freak about food just like you,” Atsumu scoffs. “She knows.”
You meet his eyes for a second; and then quickly look away, embarrassed without that buffer of being entirely a stranger.
Interesting, Osamu thinks.
“And you know, Sakusa was looking, so he said the cookies were fine.” You lean in conspiratorially. “But I saw him spitting into a napkin.”
Osamu winces. “He’s got a hell of a sweet tooth. Sorry ya had to see that.” He can’t imagine it was fun, having your cooking rejected so dramatically.
To his surprise, you laugh. “Oh no, it was my fault. Does anyone like raisin bran? I like that he’s so honest.”
You’ve started to show up at Onigiri Miya a lot, mostly at night, near closing. You’re not as frequent a visitor as Atsumu; but you’re there enough for him to wonder if you’re showing up as he begins to square away the receipts.
When you do come, you always have food with you. You always want to know what he thinks of your recipes.
(They start to taste better and better. He starts to look forward to it.)
The last customer, an old man, shuffles towards the register and passes him some crumpled bills. Osamu thanks him, and signals his staff to start closing.
“Do you have a lot left to do before you go home?” you ask.
He shrugs. “I could let the staff take care of it. But I try to help out with some of the little stuff.”
“Like?”
“Well…” Osamu bends down, and pulls out the box of fresh paper napkins. “I have to refill the holders.
“Oh, I can help with that!”
“I couldn’t ask ya to—”
You wave him off. “Don’t be silly, it’s no trouble. I’m always taking up your time, it’s the least I could do.”
It’s been a long time since Osamu has thought of being an only child. Somewhere in between when they started kindergarten (where Osamu had discovered that was an option) and the present, Atsumu had become a fact of life.
Now, as he watches you move around the tables, he thinks you’ve started to slot into his life pretty well too.
It’s the morning after you stay over that first night that he realises he’s in a little too deep.
It’s completely innocent— you both just lost track of time, working on a project for the Jackals together. Osamu couldn’t let you go home alone that late at night, and you’d known him for months at this point. He certainly hoped you didn’t think he was a creep.
It’s completely innocent. But that didn’t change the fact that you were making breakfast for him, in his kitchen, first thing in the morning. It didn’t change the fact that he’d woken up to the delicious smell of frying eggs, and an apartment that felt alive.
(It doesn’t stop his heart from skipping a beat when you smile at him over your shoulder.)
“Take a seat! Eggs are almost done.”
Osamu sits. This isn’t real. You’re dressed and ready for the day, and you look far too put together and professional to fit into the cosy fantasy that’s fighting to play out in his head.
“Do you like them scrambled?” you ask, as you set two plates of scrambled eggs on the kitchen table and pull out a chair for yourself. “Atsumu said he liked scrambled eggs best, once. So I thought—” you cut yourself off, embarrassed. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed that just because you’re twins.”
Death. Taxes. Atsumu. Facts of life. Where every conversation inevitably ends up.
“I like ���em,” Osamu says, as he shovels a spoonful into his mouth. “Thanks.”
(It tastes just a little bit better than when he makes them.)
When Atsumu nervously asks him if cooking together is a euphemism; he realises three things.
One; that Atsumu has figured out that the ‘company’ Osamu has vaguely referred to having over is you.
Two, that his brother has, at the very least, a massive crush on you.
And three, that he inexplicably feels guilty for his attempts at flirting with you.
It’s not up to him, he thinks. And it’s not up to Atsumu. It’s up to you.
He’s still thinking that when he stops you from accidentally touching the cast iron on the stove. He’s thinking it when he feels the soft skin of your wrist, and when he hurriedly lets go to try and turn his attention back to the broth he’s making.
(You’re a little out of sorts today. He doesn’t know why. He wants to ask, but every time he marshalls the words onto his tongue, that damn guilt keeps rearing its head.)
He’s thinking it when you ask him if he thinks you have a chance with Atsumu; and when he considers, for one shameful moment, if it was okay to be selfish just this once. Tell you he doesn’t think Atsumu is interested in anyone. Make a joke about how the only thing Atsumu is capable of loving is a volleyball.
Atsumu, who showed up week after week. Who fought his parents until they agreed to support Osamu’s entrepreneurial dreams. His brother, who he knew better than anyone, who he knows would back off and make it all too easy for him to believe that lie if Osamu ever told him he was interested in you.
So he doesn’t think about it after that, and settles for touching you one last time, in the guise of friendship.
Osamu hears you giggle at something his brother said, as he heads into the back of the restaurant.
He tells himself he’ll get over it, as he puts a takeout box together. It’s true. Eventually, he’ll be able to listen to that sound without running to hide in a kitchen.
Osamu feels himself falling into the comfort of familiar movements— chopping the ingredients and shaping the rice; feeling the sticky, starchy grains between his palms.
It’ll be okay.
(It’s better this way. He knows Atsumu well. He’s never been good at handling bitter food.)
If you're here after part 4, here are the [end notes]
If you found this in the Osamu tag, consider reading [the original fic?]
Or maybe one of [my others?]
Please leave a like/reblog/reply if you enjoyed. ♥️♥️
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you can do it with a broken heart
summary: jackson broke up with you for no reason, so now you try to survive residency while working at the same place. but you’re a real though bitch, you can handle your shit
tags: fem!reader, jackson avery, angsty, ttpd
tw: mentions of su!c!de
—-
“You seem… okay.”
You looked at Meredith who was staring at you with a concerned expression. You shrugged, spitting the toothpaste from your mouth into the sink.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” You asked, grabbing a towel and wiping your face from any minty residue.
Meredith narrowed her eyes on you. “Well,” she said, entering the bathroom fully. “Avery dumped you.”
Your heart sank at the mention of him. You shook your head, forcing a smile. “So? It’s not the end of the world. He’s literally just a guy and I dumped him.”
Alex entered the bathroom, pushing past you to get to the sink. You locked eyes in the mirror and he shook his head.
“Pretty boy was not just a guy,” he grumbled, grabbing his razor. “He was like your person or twin or whatever it was you called him.”
Meredith hummed in agreement, sitting on the toilet with her eyes fixed on you. “He wasn’t just a guy, he was your guy.”
You sighed, running a hand through your hair. Your stomach twisting like a wet rag at the topic of conversation. It had been two weeks since Jackson decided to end things after months and months of the stupid will they, won’t they dance. It wasn’t even a viable reason, he needed to focus on plastics and you needed to focus on cardio. It wasn’t you, it was him. After the boards things were going to be different.
Blah blah blah.
“I’m fine,” you said in a failed attempt to convince both of them and maybe even yourself.
Because you were the complete opposite of fine. You were completely ruined. They were right. Jackson wasn’t just a guy, he was the love of your life. Your best friend and one random fight escalated to the point where you turned back to strangers.
Derek popped his head in the bathroom, catching your eye with a sympathetic smile. “Hey,” he said softly. “You okay?”
“I’m fine!” you exclaimed, pushing past him to get to your room. “Perfectly, fine.”
——
“You gotta fake it, till you make it,” Arizona said as she masterfully dissected a burst appendix. “Break ups suck. The important thing is though that you win, you have higher ground.”
You had the faking part down, now making it? That’s a whole different story.
“I’m fine,” you repeated, your eyes on the cavity in front of you. That seemed to be your new phrase lately, it had variations but fine was becoming your old faithful.
For some reason, you decided to look up at the gallery. Your eyes meet green ones. So green yet so blue at the same time. Like a watercolor painting of a beach paradise. You swallowed the lump that blocked your throat. Knowing the intercom was turned on by the red light, you decided to prove it once and for all.
“I actually have a date,” you lied, your eyes darting back to Arizona’s hand as she finished sewing up the kid.
She looked up at the gallery with wide eyes before landing her eyes on you. “A date? With who?”
“Um…” you racked your brain trying to come up with a convincing answer, your eyes briefly meeting Jackson’s. “A lawyer…yeah.”
Arizona dropped the subject when the monitor started beeping wildly, the attention shifting towards the patient. You look up at the gallery again. He was gone.
You’re fine.
—
“He said he’d loved me all his life,” you sobbed one into your arm one night at Joe’s. Lexie rubbed your back sympathetically. “He lied.”
She sighed, passing you another napkin. “You are going to be just fine,” she said, taking your drink away. “No more tequila for you though.”
You shook your head, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “I’m fine,” you said, forcing a smile. “I can handle this, this is nothing.”
——
“It’s kind of ironic,” Alex said one day, watching you repair an aortic aneurysm in the gallery. “She wants to fix hearts for a living but can’t get her own shit together.”
Cristina mumbled an agreement, her eyes focused on the surgery. April shook her head, feeling sad for her friend.
Meredith shrugged. “She says she’s fine,” she said, taking a bite of her apple. “If that was me, I would’ve drowned myself in the bathtub by now.”
Cristina raised an eyebrow, turning back to look at her. “That was you and you did almost drowned.”
“She’s on the verge of a mental breakdown,” Lexie said, her eyes focused on a medical journal. “It’s a matter of time.”
“Avery is a dumbass,” Alex stated, earning a chorus of agreement from the rest of the residents.
All of them were blissfully unaware that Jackson was standing at the entrance of the library. His eyes focused on you as you performed your magic. The way you laughed as you bantered with Altman. His heart sank.
He really was a dumbass for letting you go.
__
You sat in the gallery with the rest of the group, your eyes focused on the surgery below. You mentally took notes. You hadn’t slept in days, food would not stay down no matter how much you tried.
The anxiety ate away at you constantly. The emptiness follows you everywhere you go. The hospital became your home as you dreaded going to bed alone.
Jackson entered the gallery, causing the hairs on the back of your neck to stand up. You still couldn’t be in the same room as him, no matter how cool you tried to play it. With a curt nod, you stood up.
As the tension mounted within you, a sudden wave of dizziness washed over, causing you to sway slightly in your place at the gallery. Cristina, noticing your unsteadiness, reached out a hand to steady you.
"Hey, you okay?" she asked, concern etched in her voice.
You forced a smile, nodding weakly. "Yeah, just a little tired," you replied, though the lie tasted bitter on your tongue.
Lexie glanced up, furrowing her brow at your demeanor. "Are you sure?" she remarked, her voice tinged with worry.
Before you could respond, Meredith interjected, concern evident in her eyes as she set her half-eaten apple aside. "Maybe you should take a break, get some fresh air," she suggested, her tone gentle yet firm.
“I just need to leave,” you whispered, hurrying out of the cramped room.
You’re fine.
—
“Hey.”
You looked up from your study notes. Jackson stood in front of you, shifting from one leg to the other. His hand gripping the strap of his backpack tightly.
Your heart was pounding. “Yeah?” You cautiously asked, closing your notebook.
“I just wanted to check in on you,” he admitted, taking a step closer. “You looked rough in the gallery earlier.”
Your heart skipped a beat at his words, a mixture of emotions swirling within you. Anger, hurt, longing—each fighting for dominance as you struggled to maintain your composure.
"I'm fine," you replied, the words coming out more sharply than you intended. "Just a rough day."
Jackson's expression softened, his eyes searching yours for a hint of the turmoil raging within. "You know you can talk to me, right?" he said softly, his voice filled with genuine concern. “I know you. I know you haven’t been eating or sleeping. Meredith told me you barely go home nowadays.”
A bitter laugh escaped your lips, surprising even yourself. "Talk?" you scoffed, the words dripping with sarcasm. "About what, exactly? How you broke my heart?"
His eyes widened, a pained expression crossing his features. "I never meant to hurt you," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I thought I was doing what was best for both of us."
"Best for both of us?" you repeated, incredulous. "How is dumping me, without a single good explanation, the best for me?"
Tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill over. You blinked them back, refusing to let him see your pain. "You don't get to waltz back into my life and act like everything's okay," you said, your voice trembling with emotion. "I'm not your consolation prize, Jackson."
He reached out a hand, as if to touch you, but you flinched away, the pain of his betrayal still too fresh. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I never meant to hurt you. I just... I thought it would be easier this way."
"Easier for who?" you shot back, your anger simmering just below the surface. "Not for me, that's for sure."
With a heavy sigh, Jackson took a step back, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "Fine. I'll leave you alone," he said, his voice filled with resignation. "But just know that I'm here if you ever need me."
As he turned to walk away, you felt a pang of regret, a part of you longing for the comfort of his presence. But you pushed it aside, steeling yourself against the pain. You had survived his absence once; you could do it again.
You’re good. You can do it with a broken heart.
#jackson avery#greys anatomy fanfic#greys anatomy drabble#jackson avery x reader#reader fanfiction#female reader#jesse williams
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I had a fic idea that maybe George Weasley is slipped some veritaserum and he can’t hold in the secret that he’s in love with the reader?? Something angsty maybe? I’m not really sure but I think it would be great!! 🥰
Ugh, I love the twins. I’m more partial towards Freddie myself but we’ll see how this goes. It’s a little lengthy and probably not as much angst as you were looking for but let me know what you think 🤗
Pairing: George Weasley x reader
Warnings: lil tiny angst but not much
You rolled your eyes, picking up your goblet and taking a swig before answering your friend, “You’re mental, Gin, really. There is absolutely no way that George has a crush on me. That man despises me.” She only smiled in response, “Oh sweet y/n/n…how can you be so smart and yet so clueless.” You huffed, stabbing a potato with your fork as she continued, “You know I am his sister, I can tell when my brother is into someone.”
“Actually you are so right, Ginny,” your sentence laced with sarcasm, “how could I be so stupid, the boy who charmed my potions textbook to squirt water in my face when I opened the cover is just desperately pining after me.” Ginny’s rolled her eyes but you continued, “Unless I hear it straight from the pranksters mouth, I will continue to tell you how delusional you are.” At that Ginny’s grin grew wide as she took a small vile from inside her robes, “Well I guess it’s good I have this then, huh?”
Your eyes grew wide, “Is that what I think it is?” Ginny shrugged her shoulders, popping the small cork from the top and pouring the liquid into a goblet before stuffing the vile back in her robes, “If you think it’s veritaserum, then I take back my earlier statement about you being dumb.” You looked around the great hall, noticing the twins walking in, “How do you know they’re even going to sit by us? Isn’t George going to be suspicious that you poured a drink for him?”
Ginny shook her head, “I know they’re going to sit with us because I told them I was nervous about quidditch tryouts this weekend when I saw them earlier between classes. Fred said he’d come by during dinner to talk me through it. And I help mum set the table at home so they won’t be suspicious as long as you start pouring Fred a glass as well.”
You quickly grabbed a jug and started to fill a goblet for Fred just as Ginny did for George. As predicted, the red-headed duo came flouncing toward your section of the table, George plopping down next to his sister as Fred did the same next to you. They both happily took the goblets from each of you before filling their plates to the edge with food. “Merlin, do you both eat enough?” You let out a light laugh.
George rolled his eyes, seemingly irritated, “We’re growing boys, Y/n. Plus we have quidditch tryouts this weekend, gotta bulk up.” He flexed the arm that wasn’t busy shoveling food down his throat. “Speaking of, why’re you so nervous, Ginny. You know you’re our best chaser,” Fred was telling the truth, Ginny was easily the best chaser on the team. It probably helped that she was the youngest of all brothers, most of which were either previously or currently on the team.
Ginny, thankfully was a fantastic actress, “Dunno, really, maybe I’m just overthinking it. Let’s talk about something else, yeah? Distract me.” You snorted slightly, “Well they’re both definitely good at being distracting.” Fred took it as a compliment, throwing an arm over your shoulder, “Awh, you get distracted by us easily, Y/n?” You rolled your eyes, shoving his arm off of you. You peeked over at George who was grumbling something while taking a large swig from his goblet. The exact goblet Ginny had laced with truth serum.
You looked over at Ginny, who looked right at you, smile growing wider by the second. “What was that you said George? We couldn’t quite hear you,” Ginny asked him. George set down his cup, “I said Y/n is the distracting one.” His face fell with his statement, looking at Fred who was doing his best to stifle a laugh. You crossed your arms, attitude laced in your tone, “Me? You’re the one jinxing textbooks and pulling pranks all the time! How on earth could I possibly distract you?”
George covered his face with his hands, trying to smother his answer. “Nuh, uh, Georgie, answer her. How does Y/n distract you?” Ginny pried his hands away from his face. George closed his eyes, it was obvious he was doing his best to keep his mouth shut but the words just came tumbling out like he had no control.
“Everything she does is distracting to me,” the tips of his ears blushed a slight pink. It was obvious to Fred that George somehow ingested truth serum and started adding fuel to the fire, “Do you have a crush on Y/n? And if so how big is your crush?” Fred was grinning like he already knew the answer, and by the way George was shooting draggers with his eyes directly at his twin, it was obvious he did. “Yes, I have a crush on Y/n, a really big crush on her.”
Your jaw fell open in shock. You started stuttering over your words, trying to take advantage of George in this state before the serum wore off, “Wha-, how-, erm, why do you have a crush on me? I thought you hated me. What do you even like about me? How long George?” Ginny and Fred were both resting their chins in their hands, smiles wide as they looked from you to George, awaiting his answer.
He took a deep breath before the words flying out of his mouth, “How could I not have a crush on you? Look at you, you’re bloody gorgeous, Y/n. And you’re so smart, it’s almost intimidating. Merlin, woman, it takes most of my brain power to not think about you. I’m only mean to you because I’m a fucking child, trying to ignore my feelings because I know there’s no way you feel the same. That first summer that you came to visit and stayed with us at the burrow, I thought you were the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen. Then I saw you and Ginny prank Harry and Ron. Ginny told me it was all your idea, and I swear to Merlin I was in love.” His head fell back into his hands, by the sight of his ears you knew his freckled cheeks were painted sarclet.
Your heart felt like it was beating out of your chest by the end of his confession. Ginny’s jaw fell open so wide you swore she was going to catch a fly in there. You shook your head, having trouble understanding what he was saying, “But-, George that was like, three years ago, why did you never say anything?” George pushed himself off the bench, walking quickly out of the dining area. Fred spoke up then, “He never figured you’d like him back. Thought you’d just see him as your best friend's annoying older brother. Been telling him for years just to go for it.” You turned back to look at the doors George just left through.
Ginny poked your hand with her fork causing you to yelp and turn to her. “Hello, go after him Y/n, I know you like him too. Georgie pranks everyone but you’re the only one that can drown on and on about him for hours. You wouldn’t care that much unless you were hoping for a different type of attention from him.” You looked from her to Fred who gave you a wink and a slight nudge.
You jumped up from the table, walking quickly to the doors in hopes of finding him. Thankfully George had only gone to the steps right outside the great hall doors. When you stood in front of his sitting form he looked up at you, “What do you want, Y/n?” It was rare you saw him from this angle, you’d often get puppy dog eyes from the twins when you were the shorter one, but the way he was looking at you now nearly broke your heart into pieces.
“Can we talk?” You held out your hand for him to take. His hand nearly swallowed yours, but he still took it. You led him to an empty corridor before sliding down the wall, patting the empty space next to you for him to mimic your actions. He did without question, sliding down next to you, but not looking at you. You turned to face him, placing a hand on his leg nearest to you. His eyes were glued to your hand as you spoke, “Yanno Ginny has been saying you had a crush on me.” His eyes met yours, you took a deep breath and continued, “She says I have a crush on you too. That the amount you prank me wouldn’t bother me so much if I wasn’t secretly wanting a different kind of attention from you.”
“And what do you think?” He finally spoke. His voice was soft, teetering on breaking. “I think she’s probably right,” you started to lean back against the wall, lifting your hand off George’s leg. He was quick to grab it, placing it back where it was. You continued with a smile, “Don’t get me wrong, I definitely get irritated when you prank me. But I would much rather you be sweet to me, amongst…other things.” George’s ears perked up, “What does other things consist of?” You giggled, slapping his chest before standing up. You bent down, whispering in ear, “If you can catch me before reaching the common room maybe I’ll tell you.” You took off down the corridor, George following quickly behind, smiling ear to ear.
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if you could headcanon angst fot each eddie what would it be? (youre hesrtbreakingly good at angst)
mafia!eddie’s is easy. angst about you getting hurt bc of his job. he got ‘sloppy’ (he didn’t) and trusted the wrong person or did the wrong thing. it’s his worst fear come true, repeating history. he’d go into nearly a mania state of paranoia trying to prevent it. a spiraling rampage and just completely loses his mind in a way.
older!eddie i’d say it’s the angst of gina. past relationship trauma and really the verbal and mental abuse she put him in. specifically, left him in when they divorced. how self conscious it made him, how anxious it made him, how deeply just fucked up and skewed his perception of love was.
modern!eddie it would be a good old fashioned break up. he’s too immature in the relationship. one too many fight about forgetting things, her having to do everything. just too much, really, and they break up. he’s in a deep depression after. genuinely heart broken but tbh needs to happen bc he’s gotta grow up a little.
rockstar!eddie is definitely when he does coke and is with the kids. i’m standing with that anon from ages ago (i think it was on the old blog maybe?) but twins are newborns, he’s trying to balance still working and touring and making music, being a dad to four young kids, and being a husband. he’s exhausted but he can’t be, does some coke, nb notices somethings off with how weird he’s been and finds it. she leaves him and goes to farrah’s. he absolutely loses his shit, spirals way out of control, checks himself into like a rehab spa place bc he’s not addicted really but he wants to learn healthy coping skills. has a teeny tiny nervous breakdown too from just everything.
cowboy!eddie is coming. trust.
dom!eddie this feels generic but he takes it too far. not physically but emotionally if that’s makes sense. i think early in the relationship, they’re kinda figuring out what they like, what they don’t. it’s easy with physical things bc he can see it. but he wants to do emotional too. says some hurtful shit in the name of “degrading” which she takes personally. he didn’t mean it but why did he say that, let alone think it (spoiler he heard it in a porno and thought it would be good to say lol). just very angsty miscommunication. definitely helps them establish hard lines on what goes and what doesn’t. realizes she likes being humiliated more than degraded so important in their dynamic but yikes. not fun.
bouncer!eddie he cheats on her. he’s so flirty anyways like that’s just his personality. he’s drunk, she’s not there, gets his dick sucked in the hideout bathroom after a gig when he’s so fucking drunk he can barely stand and sobs after he cums. he’s a wreck about telling you. decides not to lie (bc people there def saw it) and it’s horrendous. absolutely just angst and more angst and he didn’t mean to, you don’t believe him. worst of all you have to WORK together omfg. very not great.
janitor!eddie i pretty much destroyed him with ‘some sunny day’ so that? if it was with reader related, it’s definitely when he gets jealous over nothing. accuses her of cheating and flirting and taking advantage of him and being horrible, because one of the other teachers were flirting with her and she was uncomfortable. but he doesn’t try to hear her side of thing, just assumes and accuses and is deeply insecure, and like can’t be doing that lol.
#oneforthemunny#munnytalks#rockstar!eddie munson#cowboy!eddie munson#mafia!eddie munson#modern!eddie munson#older!dilf!eddie munson#janitor!eddie munson#dom!eddie munson#bouncer!eddie munson
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Ant Pile | rosekiller | E | 21.3k words | chapter 2/2 | modern day AU, unhinged stupid teenage boy behavior, hood rat x whatever the opposite of a nepo baby is, slice of life
This is a story about two boys raised by the sun.
Florida heat, being a teenager, best friends and how falling in love works when you've already loved them for as long as you can remember.
— [ heavily insp by Dominic Fike’s song Ant Pile/album Sunburn ]
no one’s gonna say anything against a dude kissing his homie good luck | rosekiller | M | 3.1k words | stupid teenage bois, jealousy and Good Luck Kissing
Evan’s fingers clench in the worn cotton. Somewhere in the back of his head there’s sirens going off, a voice yelling at him to not do it.
It’s a husky little thing when it tumbles out of Evan anyways. “You want a good luck kiss?”
— [Ant Pile b-side]
Die a Little Death For Me | jegulus | E | 2.7k words | smut, trans reg, light dom/sub, voyuerism ft. the rosekiller boys
James leans down, admonishing, voice patronizing in his ear, “You gotta be quiet for me though, love. Can you be a good boy and do that for me?”
Suck the marrow out my bones and all you’ll taste is yourself | old wolfstar | T | 1.6k words | domestic, toothrotting fluff
“Moons,” whispered on a breathy little snicker, much too boyish for a man in his mid fifties and the mattress dips beneath his weight.
Teeth | wolfstar | E | 3.9k words | written for the Kinktober 2023 prompts Dubcon and Stripping
And then Remus squats down in front of him, a palm held under Sirius’ chin, “C’mon, spit, baby.”
Sirius cheeks are flaring and he throws his chin up and forcefully spits the man right in his fucking face.
Always Pushing her Luck | lesbian wolfstar | E | 2.6k words | the inherent eroticism of lathering someone up in sunscreen/aloe lotion
Remus braces herself but, really, she should have seen it coming. “Kiss it better?”
Ribs Are Designed To Be Crawled Into | lesbian wolfstar | M | 1.7k words | bloody and gory-ish, feelings realization, canon universe
“Chest a widely open crater that Remus wants to duck into and make a home for herself in. Close the bones of Sirius’ ribs behind her like some grotesque form of double doors.”
rotting/festering away in the docs:
The Other Lily | the other zoey pandalily AU | E? | Christmas rom com fluff & angst with a happy ending, Rosier cousins!, College AU
Lily is popular by accident because she likes helping others, is top of her classes and can be ‘witty in a real sexy way’ according to her best friend James. She doesn’t know what she expects from romance until Lily runs into someone that’s just as thorough, clever and unintentionally charming—Evan Rosier. A perfect match on paper that she’s eager to explore. But then she accidentally causes Evan’s cousin Pandora to get run over by a car and sort of becomes her girlfriend and then gets invited to a skiing trip that Evan is also going to attend and, well. A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. James tells her she’s bonkers and if he was less consumed by a particular delivery guy with pouty lips and a French accent he might have been able to do something about it.
or, How Lily Evans steals someone’s girlfriend in a roundabout way Christmas miracle style
sun-baked dirt | wolfstar & jegulus cowboy au early 2000s | E
i’m talking mechanical bulls, chaps, skinny dipping, ex-equestrian black brothers, meaningful talks under the stars, the prettiest set of boots and lots of heart eyes and sexual tension
mira, mi amor | insp by a zar prompt! | jegulily & background wolfstar modern day nanny au | E | age gap, chronic illness, poc jily, smut
harry has 4 younger siblings: we’re serving an angsty almost-teenager, red-haired twins (because i couldnt help myself) and one precious toddler—lily and james are shagging non-stop to compensate for having the hots for their nanny and regulus is perpetually stressed out or horny (…….or both)
— a million and one more little things, mostly porn oneshots but also a whole fuckin haikyuu and maze runner au?? yeah
feel free to come yell at me about any of these:) also haikyuu, jjk, atla, aftg, httyd or anything in general really<3
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Presents to you a cat skull covered in moss and some shiny crystals *Bows*
So uh, I had this thought that going with my current obsession with Danny and Damian as twins. They got separated during a mission or something and Danny is presumed dead after they can't find him, mean while Danny is wondering around with Jazz with Amnesia.
Cue growing up with the Fentens and the whole dying thing (it's a medical condition, Jason!) and getting found out by his parents of the GIW, I'm feeling angsty so like let's go for a nasty vivisection.
Maybe Dani gets caught too and they destabilise her so Danny has to stabilise her all over again, so he's looking after this infant/toddler Dani.
Anyways he escaped to Gotham and gets found by the bats on patrol, all injured and sick with infection after living on the streets for a week and is taken to Alfred where he sees him.
Damian instantly recognises him, calls him by his name and Danny promptly freaks out, has a panic attack because 'Oh shit, not another clone! What if they catch him too and he destabilises like Dani?! What if he doesn't make it like the others?! How do I keep him safe?!' but also at the same time 'Shit! Vlad made another clone to kill me, gotta protect Dani and hide!'
Thanks for reading all this lol.
Oooooooo I love this a lot. Big ol fun question to ponder is exactly how Danny got amnesia. I absolutely adore the young Dani idea that’s so cute but the idea of Danny just refusing to believe that Damian isn’t a clone really takes the cake for me. That has so much good angst potential. AAAAAA
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You know how people say Harry and Draco suffered the same? I don’t like that I actually like the concept of them being complete opposite.
Like we know Draco is. Rich spoiled pureblood who from a very young age knew where he belonged, who he represented and what he wanted.
Unlike Harry who grew with nothing of that, not even a single friend.
Even the headcaon of snape being Draco godfather is like a slap to Harry’s face, like not only is this kid experiencing parental love but his godfather is present and cares for him to the point of putting himself in deaths arms to protect him, and maybe to be a little angsty Harry is jealous, because the first thing his godfather did was go after the murder instead of taking care and making sure he’s ok and keeping him with him instead of letting rage get the best of him and getting himself in Azkaban.
Moral of my babbling is, I love those panels, the comparisons and envy, for even Draco sometimes envy Harry for things Harry wouldn’t even consider a pleasing.
Oh believe me, as a thriving Draco fan, I’ve seen that claim many times before. Though I gotta say, I may be a fan of Draco, but I am a DEFENDER of my boy Potter. 🙏🏼
I don’t believe their upbringing or trauma is in any way comparable. Draco’s issue is that he was misguided and was pretty much primed to hate muggleborns. A lot of people like to say “oh but Sirius was raised in the same way and he didn’t turn out like Draco” as a way to say there’s no reason to sympathise with Draco, but the difference between him and Sirius is that Draco was loved. His family adored him, he was spoiled rotten and his parents would kill for him, so he would obviously look up to them and share their beliefs. Sirius, on the other hand, hated his parents and was abused by his mother (and his father, I reckon his father was rather negligent, which is a form of abuse), so he definitely took it upon himself to position himself as far away from their beliefs and opinions as he could. Again, there’s no excuse for being a blood-prejudiced hoe like Draco, but I don’t think it’s wrong to say “hey, maybe if his loving parents were actually good people and didn’t believe in pureblood supremacy, he could’ve lived a regular life and became a better person.” Anywayyy sorry for getting off-topic but it’s probs been like 2 years since I talked about Draco on this blog 💀 I feel like only my old followers know how much I love him because of how rarely I talk about him now lmao.
Back to the main point, I also agree with you, I just enjoy the idea of Draco and Harry being opposites whilst sharing similar parallels but being too blind in each other’s hatred to ever realise it. I can see some similarities between them, but let’s face it, they’re more opposites than they are twins.
and maybe to be a little angsty Harry is jealous, because the first thing his godfather did was go after the murder instead of taking care and making sure he’s ok and keeping him with him instead of letting rage get the best of him and getting himself in Azkaban.
That’s true ig 😭 I honestly have mixed feelings on the idea of Snape being Draco’s godfather, I personally believe it kinda ruins their relationship, bc I think Snape cared for Draco simply because 1. he (Draco) was the son of someone who took Severus under his wing, and it was Sev’s way of expressing gratitude 2. he saw how misguided Draco was and, considering how misguided Sev was at Draco’s age, he felt obligated to protect and assist him [+ Draco pretty much had no one in HBP; his father was in Azkaban, his mother was at home, and Crabbe and Goyle were no good. He lacked a parental figure in his life who could point him in the right direction. Severus also never had that when he was growing up, so I can’t help but think that Severus, as an adult and a Professor, wanted to be there for Draco and saw a part of himself in him because he knew what it felt like to have no one]. And it honestly just seems like a cliche trope, but I also like imagining a scenario where Lucius asks Severus to be Draco’s godfather and Sev is so moved by the offer that he couldn’t even bring himself to respond 🥹
Moral of my babbling is, I love those panels, the comparisons and envy, for even Draco sometimes envy Harry for things Harry wouldn’t even consider a pleasing.
1. I will definitely be using “Moral of my babbling,” tyvm 2. Same, I can imagine Draco harbouring resentment towards Harry for having such genuine friendships and so many people at Hogwarts who care about him.
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Beautiful People with Beautiful Problems
Masterlist
Pairing: Jake x Reader
Genre: Angst, hurt, ex!Jake
Context: Y/N, a very successful singer-songwriter was close friends with the members of Greta Van Fleet for several years. She had a tumultuous yet terribly passionate relationship with Jake that ended painfully (you’ll see in other chapters). They find themselves forced to share a space once more as they the hardship of a lifetime.
Disclaimer: English isn’t my native language, so I apologize in advance for mistakes and awkward wordings to come. Also, I guess this fic could be triggering for some because it’s kind of sad and angsty.
Word Count: 5.6k
Previous Track: Hits Different (3 months prior) coming soon..
Chapter soundtrack: Beautiful people with Beautiful Problems – Lana Del Rey
(By the way, for every ‘Chapter Soundtrack’, basically the idea is that it’s a song that YN eventually wrote with that chapter of her life in mind)
Blue is the color of the planet from the view above
Long live our reign, long live our love
Green is the planet from the eyes of a turtle dove
'Til it runs red, runs red with blood.
We get so tired, and we complain
'Bout how it's hard to live
It's more than just a video game.
But we're just beautiful people with beautiful problems,
Beautiful problems, God knows we've got them
But we gotta try
Every day and night.
Alright, let’s get into this.
_____
The sterile white walls of the corridor seemed to close in on Jake as he sat in the rigid chair, his eyes fixed on a point in the distance. A million thoughts raced through his mind. It had been eleven agonizing hours since chaos had come to him in the form of a simple phone call, yet the passing of time felt immeasurable.
His eyes remained fixed, unblinking, as if trying to anchor himself in a reality that slipped further away with each passing moment. The incessant ringing in his ear was interrupted only by the distant sounds of the hospital—monitors beeping rhythmically, nurses’ distant footsteps, and the low hum of neon lighting.
Meanwhile, Josh hadn’t stopped pacing around, his every step echoing the restlessness within. His vibrant energy, which usually animated stages, now manifested as a desperate plea for time to reverse its relentless march.
In this tense atmosphere, Danny had accompanied Karen to the chapel just a floor down. The chapel offered solace and a quiet refuge, a place where they could seek a moment of respite amid the chaos.
It was then, after hours of solemn silence, that Josh's voice cut through the stillness, a sudden and stark interruption to the quiet.
"…?" his voice echoed in the hall, a call that hung in the air like a fragile thread. Jake, coming out of his daze, strained to make out the words. Whipping his head around, he was met with the sight of Josh's back, frozen in place. He tilted his head, trying to get a proper look at what had left his twin in such a state.
"H-how did you-?" Josh said, his words carrying a weight of both surprise and longing. That's when Jake caught a glimpse of her silhouette approaching.
There she was, as if materializing from the depths of his subconscious. Y/N. Hair soaked with rain; she stood pale against the stark hospital lighting. Her presence was almost surreal, a bittersweet mirage in the bleak environment.
"I came as soon as I heard," she said after a moment, her words a soft cadence that carried a hint of nervousness. Jake's heart skipped a beat at the sound of her voice, a melody from another time.
She stopped a few feet away from the twins, a fragile bridge of unspoken emotions spanning the gap between them. The air thickened with a mixture of uncertainty.
Josh, unable to contain his emotions, immediately sprang forward, his movements a cascade of relief. He enveloped her in a tight embrace, as if afraid she might vanish if he let go. Jake watched as his brother mumbled words, too weak to be discerned. His head was buried in the crook of Y/N's neck, seeking solace in the familiarity of her presence.
She had been sorely missed, and her arrival was a balm to the collective ache that had settled within the Greta boys. A familiar face offering the comfort they had greatly needed.
Josh eventually let go of her, his grip reluctantly loosening. She caressed his face gently. With a pivot, she turned her attention to Jake, who still sat there, dumbfounded, unable to find the right words. His throat felt dry, the echoes of the past and present proving to be too much for his brain to register.
"It's good to see your face," Y/N said in a hushed, uncertain voice, her eyes locked onto his. The air hung heavy. She noticed the weariness in his eyes; he noticed the hint of tears in hers.
Jake found himself unable to form a response, his mouth hanging open for a few seconds. Coming to the rescue, Josh broke the heavy silence.
"I'll go get Ma’ and Danny. They'll be happy to see you, Y/N," he said, offering a gentle smile. It was an eerie thing, seeing Josh so- subdued. He turned on his heels and disappeared behind the fireproof doors, leaving YN and his brother alone in the echoing hallway.
Jake's gaze returned to the floor, a myriad of emotions churning beneath the surface. Y/N, on the other hand, looked up at the ceiling, blinking away a couple of tears that threatened to spill over. The silence was thick, punctuated only by the distant sounds of hospital activity.
Y/N took a hesitant step forward, bridging the physical and emotional gap that had widened over the past two years.
"So," she paused, her voice betraying a palpable nervousness, "How is he?" she eventually asked, the weight of her words suspended in the hushed air,
"Uh," Jake bit his lower lip nervously, "he—he’s stable." A tense pause followed, the unspoken fears lingering between them, “he’s not in the ICU anymore.”
"Can we see him?" she asked.
"Yeah," Jake responded.
"Can I…?" she hesitated, her question trailing off, an unsaid plea hanging in the air.
"Sure, yeah,” Jake nodded as he got up, “it’s- huh, it’s right over there." Jake led her to the door of the room, but stopped with his hand on the handle, a moment of hesitation in his movements. "Just- be prepared," he started, his words laden with a heavy solemnity, "he’s—" He refrained from finishing, the unspeakable truth too much to articulate. Yet, in that shared silence, she understood. It was bad.
He opened the door, and with a gentle gesture, let her enter first. Nothing could’ve prepared her for the sight that greeted her. Instinctively, she turned back around. Her eyes squeezed shut as if to shield herself from the harsh reality within the room.
An echo of uncomfortable familiarity lingered as YN fought with the instinct to bury her head in Jake’s chest for comfort.
In the old days, that's what she would've done, a reflex born from the intimacy they once shared. But now, the gap between them was more than physical. She didn't turn to him for solace, and he refrained from offering it.
His own hand discreetly flexed with tension. He would've instinctively wrapped his arms around her in a silent promise that everything would be okay. A gesture as natural as the rhythm of their heartbeats.
But it wasn't the old days anymore.
They just stood there, facing each other, neither of them certain of how exactly to navigate those newfound boundaries.
Her labored breathing, the only sound accompanying that of the machines behind her, served as a painful punctuation to the heavy silence.
The irony didn’t escape them—the boy lying in the hospital bed, in any other circumstance, would've been the one to make a snarky remark about the awkward nature of the situation. But now, the absence of his humor left nothing but a void.
After a beat, Jake settled for a simple nod of acknowledgment. Y/N nodded back. Time to be brave. Steeling herself, she took a deep breath and finally turned back around.
The sight was just as jarring the second time around, a heart-wrenching contrast to the memories she held so dear. He laid there, connected to endless machines, a shadow of the vibrant person she’d always seen.
As Y/N reached the bedside, her throat tightened with emotion. She delicately reached out to brush a strand of hair away from the boy’s pallid features.
"Hi, Sammy," she whispered with a quiver of her lips.
The room became a time capsule, holding the echoes of their past — a place where everything they’d gone through still lingered, if only in the recesses of memory.
Karen suddenly stormed into the room; her entrance heralded by the determined click of her boots on the hospital floor. Following closely behind were Josh and Danny.
“Y/N, honey,” Karen exclaimed tearfully as she opens her arms wide. The sight of her long-lost daughter had brought an immediate welling of emotion.
“Mrs. Kiszka,” Y/N said, her own eyes shimmering with tears, instantly engulfed in Karen’s bone-crushing hug. "I'm so glad to see you."
“You shouldn’t have flown in, pumpkin, I read you’re a busy bee." Karen continued, pulling back slightly but still holding Y/N at arm's length, "Kelly and I saw you on TV just the other day. Here, let me get a good look at you." She took Y/N’s face in her hands, concern etched on her features. "Are you sleeping properly? You know—"
“Karen, do you mind?" Danny interrupted, a laugh escaping YN’s lips at Mama Kiszka’s rapid-fire questions.
“Danny,” Y/N smiled, turning to the drummer.
“Hey, stranger,” Danny greeted her with a warm hug. They exchanged a knowing smile as they separated.
“Aren’t you tired?” Karen resumed her rapid inquiries, “The flight from the city is no piece of cake. And you must be starving, too! Let’s go get you some food-”
“Ma,” Josh interjected, taking charge, “why don’t you take a seat?” He quickly brought a chair from the corner of the room for his mom to sit in.
"Right,” said Danny, “You three stay here, YN and I will go to the cafeteria to get everyone some snacks,” he suggested. He ushered Y/N out of the room, giving the Kiszkas a moment of privacy.
__________
In the hospital corridor, Danny and Y/N silently made their way to the cafeteria, the sterile lights casting a harsh glow on the linoleum floor.
“Is Ronnie flying in?” Y/N finally broke the silence, her voice a tentative breach of the awkward quietness. She’d been surprised by the absence of the one Kiszka sister.
“Yeah, she should be here tomorrow,” Danny responds, his gaze fixed on the patterned tiles beneath their feet.
“She must be so worried,” Y/N remarked, her voice tinged with genuine concern.
“We all are,” Danny admitted, tense.
As they approached the cafeteria, the low hum of voices and the clatter of trays provided a backdrop to their conversation.
Y/N noticed a cluster of people gathered inside. In a practiced move born from several years of experience, she swiftly pulled the hood of her sweater over her head. It had become a routine, a shield against the prying eyes and unwanted attention that often accompanied her public persona.
Y/N was acutely aware of the potential for added stress and intrusion that her presence might bring. She'd been through enough to know that sometimes fame doesn’t only attract well-wishers.
“So, how are you doing?” Y/N asked, trying to navigate the conversation away from the heaviness of the present moment, “apart from this, of course. How’s the family?”.
Danny, for a moment, allowed a genuine smile to soften his features. "We're hanging in there," he responded.
The mention of family opened a door to a broader conversation, a chance for them to discuss the mundane aspects of life amidst the current turmoil. Danny shared snippets of their busy lives, mentioning the band's ongoing recording sessions.
Then, with a teasing glint in his eye, he continued, "But clearly we haven’t been nearly as busy as you, Miss Time Magazine’s Songwriter of the Year." His playful tone carried a gentle mocking of the prestigious title she had been awarded just a week prior.
“Oh, you saw that?” Y/N stuttered in surprise, looking down in embarrassment. “It’s nothing, really, just some silly—”
“Hey, now, not to me, okay?” Danny playfully nudged her, and she smiled in response. “Come on, it’s pretty huge. We’re all proud of you.”
“Thanks, Danny.” Y/N said, a slight blush creeping onto her cheeks.
The conversation pivoted to the challenges of her newfound prominence. Y/N opened up about the overwhelming press attention she'd faced over the past couple of years. She’d always been quite popular, even before they’d first met, but her album sales had soared to new heights, and with that success came a deluge of PR work.
Ironically, her music had blossomed even more since Jake and her had called it quits, her songs becoming a canvas for her struggle.
The world seemed terribly entertained by her personal misery; forever eager to dissect every lyric and interview for clues about her private life. Her fanbase had slowly descended into madness trying to figure out who had managed to damage America’s Sweetheart this much.
The boys were among the few people on earth who held the key to decoding every verse and every chorus she'd written. There was never a chance to hide behind designer stage outfits and photo-op smiles when they were around. They knew what lay underneath it all.
Y/N had sought solace in moving away, believing her secrets would be hers alone. However, the vulnerability she’d tried to escape was now staring back at her in the familiar faces of the musicians she’d shared years of her life with.
Y/N and Danny weaved through the various stations, their hands slowly filling with a mix of drinks and snacks.
Still engaged in conversation, Danny offered heartfelt compliments on Y/N's recent albums, a sentiment he was glad to finally express in person.
Y/N resisted the urge to ask whether the whole band had listened to her recent works. Her songs had after all told a carefully crafted tapestry, woven with the threads of their shared narrative. Yet, a hesitance held her back and she decided not to ask, hoping to spare Danny from anymore awkwardness.
Amidst the array of snacks, the drummer’s hand instinctively reached for a bag of chocolate pretzel sticks. There was a subtle pause, a fraction of a second when realization rippled across his expression. Y/N caught the fleeting moment but chose not to comment, her throat closing.
Sam’s favorites.
The elephant in the room no longer possible to ignore, Danny broke the silence. "He'll probably wake up, soon enough." His words a quiet acknowledgment of the uncertain path ahead.
Y/N sensed the drummer’s struggle to maintain composure in the face of his best friend's current condition. In a silent show of solidarity, she squeezed his hand. “Of course,” she murmured. Of course.
__________
A few hours later, in the crowded waiting area, a lady from the hospital staff approached, holding a bag containing Sam's recovered belongings from the car wreck. The atmosphere was heavy as she listed the items.
"…and there's also a jacket as well as someone's wallet," she finished, her expression sympathetic. The mention of the last item piqued the curiosity of the gathered family members.
" ’A’ wallet?” Karen inquired, her concern shifting momentarily to the peculiar discovery, “Whose wallet?"
The lady glanced at the contents of the bag before answering, "A certain Johnny… B. Goode."
The name hung in the air for a moment before a ripple of recognition passed through Y/N, Jake, Josh and Danny. Their faces lit up with nervous laughter, uncontrollable and infectious.
Oh, Sammy, they thought.
Back when he was still underage, Sam had scored himself a fake ID from some sketchy old man in Detroit, and for some reason, he’d picked 'Johnny B. Goode' as his alias. He thought it was simply brilliant and he carried the name proudly as they went out drinking and partying on their first few tours. Apparently, he’d never gotten rid of the damn thing.
Tears started gathering in Y/N’s eyes as she clutched her stomach from the sheer hilarity of the situation. The boys joined in, their semi-contained laughter echoing through the hallway.
The absurdity of finding the relic of Sam's youthful eccentricities in such a serious situation had been the breaking point of their sanity. You’d almost think Sam had planted it there for that very purpose. Karen, bewildered by the sudden outburst, repeated her question, "Whose wallet is it?"
Amidst the laughter, Y/N managed to compose herself enough to blurt out, “I think you’ll need to see that one for yourself, Mrs. Kiszka.”
Karen grabbed the bag and opened the wallet, a look of confusion on her face as she laid her eyes on the photo of what appeared to be her youngest son at the ripe age of 18, peach fuzz and all.
“That’s-” she started.
“Johnny B. Goode,” Josh cut her off.
“The one and only,” Jake finished, a slight smile on his face.
Karen sighed, taking a closer look at the thing. “Born 1958, huh?” she shook her head with a smile, “you kids…”
The family continued to giggle uncontrollably, finding comfort in the shared memories of simpler times. To onlookers, they might have seemed like they were on the verge of a mental breakdown, but heaven knows it was a much-needed break from the tension.
__________
In the sterile, dimly lit hospital, the passage of time was marked by the monotonous ticking of a clock. The family had endured about 15 more hours filled with bad coffee, back-breaking naps, and the mind-numbing task of counting ceiling tiles. The weight of worry still hung in the air, making every passing moment feel like an eternity.
As the fatigue settled in, Y/N decided to break the stagnant routine. Standing up, she announced, "Alright, I'll go get you all some clean clothes." Her gaze shifted to the boys, a practical concern in her eyes. "Somebody give me their keys. I took a cab here from the airport."
Jake visibly tensed, ready to intervene, but Josh beat him to it.
"You shouldn't be driving,” he said, reaching out to grab her arm gently “It's dark out, and raining."
"I'll be fine, don't worry," she reassured him.
"Let one of us drive you," Josh insisted, the unspoken concern for Y/N evident, given the circumstances of Sam's accident.
« Honey, you haven’t slept in almost three days straight, » she retorted, « I think I’m our safest bet here. »
The strained air was palpable as Josh, a pillar of concern, suggested, "One of us should come with you, at least."
Determined, Y/N dismissed the idea, her voice carrying a quiet authority. "No, you all stay here, okay?" Her gaze flickered from one concerned face to another. Who knows what could happen in the coming hour. "I'll be quick and careful, I promise."
Josh conceded with a sigh, the reluctance evident as he retrieved the keys from his pocket. "It's the orange Mustang, parked out front."
Y/N grabbed the keys, "Right, uh, is the address still the same?"
Josh hesitated, "Oh, yeah, we haven’t moved headquarters since-" His unfinished sentence carried a silent acknowledgment of the tangled threads of their past. We haven’t moved since you walked out of our lives. "Uh, I'll text you the address right now, just in case."
"Thanks,” YN nodded timidly, “I'll text you when I get there," she promised, punctuating the words with a quick peck on Josh's cheek.
As she turned to leave, a peculiar sensation halted her, a magnetic pull toward a concerned-looking Jake. Against her own volition, she pivoted toward him, their eyes meeting in silent exchange. "I'll be back in a flash," she assured him with a soft smile. She felt silly. The unspoken need for mutual reassurance apparently remained, even after all this time.
As Y/N walked away, the dull hospital lighting cast elongated shadows across the hallway. Her steps echoed against the sterile tiles, each one a rhythmic beat marking her departure.
Josh glanced at his brother, who stood like a sentinel, a silent observer caught in the undertow of emotions. "She'll be fine," Josh said, offering a reassuring smile.
Jake, however, remained silent, a conflicted expression etched on his face. His gaze lingered on the spot where Y/N had vanished as the residual ache of their shared history hung in the air.
_________
The familiar crunch of gravel beneath her boots accompanied Y/N as she approached the quaint, weather-worn house, tucked away in a quiet neighborhood. Y/N's fingers fumbled with the keys, unlocking the door with a familiarity that transcended the passage of time.
As the door creaked open, a flood of nostalgia rushed over her. The living room, adorned with mismatched furniture that had seen better days, radiated warmth despite its worn-out appearance. The heart of the house, their makeshift recording studio, beckoned from the end of the hall.
Y/N's steps carried her through the dimly lit corridor, where framed pictures captured stolen moments frozen in time. Each snapshot told a story — candid shots of Jake lost in a guitar riff, Josh deep in contemplation over lyrics or Danny playfully wielding knitting needles as drumsticks. She felt her heart fill with warmth as she took in the fact that they hadn’t taken them down even after she’d left. She was the one who had taken and framed most of them, to which Jake had rolled his eyes at the time. Interior design is not Rock n’ Roll, YN.
The studio, a hallowed ground of creativity, hummed with a quiet energy. Instruments, cables, and sheets of music lay scattered — remnants of countless sessions where melodies took shape and lyrics found their voice.
As she ascended the creaky stairs, memories echoed in each step.
With her mission in mind, Y/N ventured into the individual realms of Danny's and Josh's rooms. Each space, a unique reflection of its occupant, revealed the essence of their personalities and the bonds forged within these walls.
She approached Sammy's room, the youngest Kiszka's energy palpable even before crossing the threshold. Upon opening the door, the room revealed itself as a kaleidoscope of color and controlled chaos. Musical instruments and sheet music lay scattered, a testament to the youngest Kiszka's exuberant spirit.
She walked to his wardrobe. Inside, a mosaic of photographs was lazily duck taped onto the mahogany wood. A treasure trove of memories. Among the snapshots, a specific one caught Y/N's eye. The image portrayed a slightly younger, carefree version of themselves, their Halloween costumes and laughter frozen in time. The nostalgia that washed over her was tinged with a pang of sorrow, a poignant reminder of the distance that had grown between them all since.
Y/N selected some of Sammy's clothes and shoved them in a duffle bag along with Josh’s and Danny’s.
Hesitancy gripped her as she stepped into Jake's room. The room, once a sanctuary, now held only the imprints of their intertwined lives, an indelible mark that time had failed to erase.
The bed, a haven for whispered confessions and shared laughter, stood as the silent witness to countless nights spent together, reveling in each other’s warmth.
A row of guitars, leaning against the corner, told tales of impromptu jam sessions and the gentle strumming that had often served as a lullaby.
The empty shelf, once adorned with books she had left behind, spoke volumes about the spaces they had carved out for each other within this room.
Among the carefully arranged mess, Y/N noticed the mark left by the picture frame that used to sit on his desk. The absence left a void, and she couldn't help but fixate on the faint outline.
As she reached in the cupboard for his clothes, the overwhelming aroma momentarily arrested her senses. Each piece carried his scent.
Attempting to brush off the rush of sentimentality, Y/N focused on the task at hand. With a determined efficiency, she shoved clothes in another duffle bag, before leaving behind the room that held the echoes of their shared history.
She left the house, casting one last fleeting glance at the photographs on the walls, a silent acknowledgment of the friendships that time had altered but not erased.
She stepped back into the pouring rain, yet the fragrance seemed to somehow linger, a ghost of the past that clung to her clothes.
_______
Restlessness gnawed at Jake as they all awaited Y/N's return. Rain drummed incessantly outside, providing an unwelcome soundtrack to his growing impatience. His leg bounced in a nervous rhythm, an outward expression of the turmoil churning within.
Josh, attuned to Jake's silent struggles, noticed the fidgety display but refrained from commenting. In the quiet of the room, he pondered the complex weave of emotions that tied his brother to Y/N.
“Give her a moment," Josh advised eventually, as Jake's impatience drove him to his feet. The hospital room felt stifling, and Jake muttered something about needing a drink as he retreated. "We're in a hospital, you can’t—" Josh begins, rolling his eyes but his brother cut him off with irritation.
"I just need a break,” Jake dismissed him, “it’s no big deal."
Josh sighed, “Would it kill you, for once in your life, to-”
“I’m back!” Y/N's joyful voice broke through the air, announcing her return before the tension could escalate further.
Jake, who moments ago sought refuge from the confined space, suddenly felt like he could breathe again as Y/N's voice reached them.
Josh, observing from across the room, caught the subtle relaxation in Jake's shoulders at the sight of Y/N stepping into the hall, a duffel bag in each hand. The momentary relief didn't go unnoticed by the perceptive twin. They eagerly relieved Y/N from the bags she was holding, their expressions grateful.
Seeking reassurance, YN queried about whether there’d been any progress. Their somber response prompted a subtle play of fatigue and concern that she skillfully concealed.
"Let’s give it time," Y/N remarked, a measured optimism in her tone as they collectively faced the uncertain hours ahead.
________
Y/N was drifting in and out of sleep in her chair, unable to find a comfortable position. She glanced around, searching for a momentary escape from the heavy atmosphere. Her eyes fell on a nearby waiting area, and in the corner sat an old piano, a relic of the hospital's attempt to bring comfort to visitors.
Memories flooded back – countless hours with Sammy, sat around the piano, creating melodies that echoed through the band house. It was a spot where they’d always found refuge amid the chaos that often accompanied their lives.
Y/N hesitated for a moment, then decided to approach the instrument. She ran her fingers over the keys, the cool touch a familiar sensation. The hospital's sterile surroundings seemed to fade away as she discreetly lost herself in simple notes.
Unbeknownst to Y/N, Jake watched from a distance. Music had always had a magnetic effect on them, a shared love that transcended everything else.
YN eventually settled at the piano stool. As her fingers gracefully danced over the keys, the familiar chords of Carol King’s "You've Got a Friend" filled the air. Jake smiled sadly. One of Sam’s favorites. Memories of countless evenings spent listening to the Tapestry record flooded their mind.
Unexpectedly, Karen's soulful voice joined in, the lyrics a comforting embrace amid the uncertainty. Ronnie, Josh, and Danny soon followed suit, creating an impromptu harmony that gently resonated through the hospital corridor.
Others joined in, a spontaneous gathering of voices seeking solace in the music. Some swayed to the rhythm, others nodded along, and a few simply close their eyes, lost in the gentle melody.
Detached from the crowd, Jake watched from a distance, his thoughts still a whirlwind.
The piano, a momentary escape from the harsh reality of the hospital, transformed into a vessel for collective strength. A poignant reminder that, despite the challenges, the bond forged through music remained unbroken.
As the final notes of the song faded away, Jake, physically and emotionally drained, succumbed to the weight of exhaustion. His eyelids slowly drooped and, for the first time in over 70 hours, the young man finally drifted off to sleep.
The hospital corridor, once filled with music, now came back to a serene quietness, broken only by the rhythmic sounds of Jake's steady breathing.
Observing him from a distance, Y/N noticed the subtle change in his posture. His tense features relaxed, and the lines of worry that etched his face seemed to soften in the gentle glow of the hospital lights.
Quietly stepping closer, Y/N pulled a blanket from a nearby chair. With careful tenderness, she covered Jake's slumbering figure, ensuring he was shielded from the chill of the hospital air.
With a last glance, Y/N stepped away, leaving him to the comfort of dreams, momentarily sheltered from the tumult of reality.
_________
Another day unfolded in the hushed waiting area. Jake was sitting in a chair, weariness etched on his features. The passage of time had drained color from his complexion, leaving him paler and more fragile with each hour that passed. Y/N’s eyes flickered to him every so often. Dark circles lingered under his tired eyes, telling tales of sleepless nights and endless worry.
“You haven’t been eating,” Y/N observed, her voice a gentle ripple amid the quiet, as she crouched in front of him.
“Haven’t been hungry,” he replied, shifting into his seat. His gaze remained fixed on a distant point on the wall.
YN retrieved something from her purse. "Your mum and I drove by a gas station earlier, I couldn't resist," she smiled, placing a bag of powered Donettes on his lap.
A faint half-smile graced his lips at the sight. The nostalgic snack had been all they’d eaten on tour a couple years prior. “Come on,” she urged, nudging the bag toward him. “You need energy,” YN insisted, “or shall I tell the nurses to prepare an IV?” she challenged. YN wasn’t about to let another Kiskza end up in a hospital bed.
Frustrated by his lack of response, she continued. “He wouldn’t want you to starve, you know,” her eyes studied him intently, “in fact, you'd better eat these before he wakes up, leave no traces, or else we’ll be in trouble.”
Jake scoffed, attempted amusement dancing in his tired eyes. The composed exterior he’d been wearing for the past few days was, despite his best efforts, beginning to unravel, revealing the raw vulnerability beneath.
“Hey,” she murmured gently, sensing the cracks in his carefully crafted walls. She reached for his hands as he looked down in embarrassment, “it’s okay.”
Jake let out a shaky breath, his eyes glistening.
“I let him leave,” he eventually confessed, his tearful gaze drifting away, “I knew he was fucking hammered, but I-I didn’t—” he paused, clearing his throat, “he’s my little brother for Christ’s sake,” his voice broke, the admission hanging in the air, laden with remorse and guilt.
Understanding clicked into place for Y/N. Beyond lingering in her head, the memories of their reckless habits were etched into her very skin. Instinctively, she wrapped her arms around Jake’s neck, as soft sobs racked through his body.
A sudden commotion disrupted the fragile peace of the waiting area as nurses rushed past, a cart in tow, followed by two white coats. Jake and Y/N exchange a glance. Their concern mirrored in each other's eyes, and they rose to their feet, instinctively moving towards the room they knew to be Sam's. The medical staff hurried inside, prompting their steps to quicken.
Josh stood outside the room, visible weariness etched on his face. He was rubbing his forehead with his hand. Beside him, Karen was clearly in distress, her words tumbling out incoherently amid tears. Jake and Y/N rushed toward them, a shared anxiety gripping their hearts.
"What’s going on?" Y/N implored, her voice tight with worry. Caught in the moment, she hadn't even noticed Jake holding her hand for dear life.
Karen's cries made it challenging for Josh to form a coherent response. His eyes were red, the weight of the situation heavy on his shoulders. “I-I don’t know,” he stammered, voice strained, "Sammy—he looked like-like he was choking or something, and shit started beeping everywhere. I don’t- I don’t know what happened."
Jake, driven by an urgent need to be with his brother, took a step towards the door, only to be gently pushed aside by a nurse. Her lips moved, uttering words he couldn't comprehend amid the ringing in his ears, drowning out the world around him.
Amid the escalating chaos, Jake's attempts to step forward became more frantic. Y/N, sensing his desperation, firmly pulled him back towards her, their hands still locked in a tight grip.
Jake’s breathing quickened, the fear in his eyes intensifying. As the panic started to overtake him, his gaze locked onto Y/N's.
Lowering his head, he pressed his forehead against hers. The panic attack was looming, but the warmth emanating from Y/N's presence provided a soothing balm.
As YN’s hand softly grazed his cheek, the hospital's frenetic energy slowly faded into the background. In the face of the unknown, their connection was still a lifeline, grounding Jake amidst the hurricane.
After a few minutes which, to them, might as well have been a few hours, the medical staff stepped out of the room. A doctor approached Karen, a stern expression on his face.
“It seems your son was rejecting his breathing tube,” he said, “tachycardia tends come along, it’s a lot for loved ones to witness, but generally more fear than harm.” He offered a tight-lipped smile as they all stood there speechless, unsure of what any of that had really meant.
“Anyway,” the doctor broke the silence again, “you can go in now. I’m sure he would like to see some familiar faces.”
They all froze, standing speechless.
“W-what?” Josh uttered.
“He’s awake,” the doctor stated with a shrug.
Josh sank to the floor as realization washed over him and Karen took the doctor in his arms who laughed, slightly taken aback. “He’s still on significant amounts of painkillers so he’ll be out of it for a while, but neurological functions seem intact, we’ll just need to keep a check for any brain swelling, and keep an eye on his ribs, but he should be fine.” He nodded, before walking away.
Jake, still in shock, turned to YN.
"Did you hear that?" she whispered with a gentle smile, "he's gonna be okay."
Her sense of reality coming back, she gently slipped her hand out of his grip and moved to help Josh off the floor. Jake remained frozen, his gaze following her as she approached his mom.
"Let's go see Sammy, now, shall we?"
Next Track: Long & Lost (same day) coming soon..
Masterlist
Hope you liked it! Once again, I am begging you all to interact and leave comments it makes me so happy to get feedback and reactions xxx
Also, this is only the beginning lol. I have a billion drafts for other chapters so stay tuned, peaceful army.
Taglist
@aintthatapity
#gretavanfleet#greta van fleet#greta van fleet fic#greta van fleet fanfic#greta van fleet fanfiction#greta van fleet imagine#greta van fleet imagines#greta van fleet x reader#jake kiszka x reader#jake kiszka fic#jake kiszka fanfic#jake kiszka fanfiction#jake kiszka imagine#jake kiszka imagines#greta van fic#jake gvf#jake kiszka#danny gvf#gvf#josh gvf#sam gvf#sam kiszka#josh kiszka#danny wagner#greta van smut#greta van fleet fan fiction#jacob thomas kiszka#jtk x reader#gvf fic#gvf fanfiction
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I'm on a Lorraine Heath kick thanks to your recommendations so I'd love to know your Top Reads of hers!
Aaah I'm so glad! Lorraine is really so good. A true icon.
My chief favorites include...
Obviously, When the Duke Was Wicked, which feels stupid to say as I'm word vomiting about it right now, but in case someone is in my recs tag later, I love this book and I think it's probably one of the most well-executed romances I've ever read.
Waking Up with the Duke is one that I think has risen among Lorraine fans to be upheld as one of the best, and if I think about everything I've read by her... There's one thing that I think is, in terms of dating and the way we talk about romance, worth critiquing. But in terms of the quality of the love story, her prose, the plot, the EMOTION, it may be her best yeah. It's really moving and really angsty and it takes a truly bizarre plot and plays it so straight and gives you SO MUCH feeling. I just really love this book.
The Earl Takes All is Gorilla Twins, so you've kinda gotta read it, but it's also genuinely a great book. Like, the entire plot is incredibly wild lol, but the drama and twists are done so well. The way she does the REVEAL is not what I think anyone would expect when reading this novel. And it's so messy. God, I love it.
The Duke and The Lady in Red is another one I think we could discuss on some levels but damn did I love it. It's sooooo romantic, and Avendale is honestly a difficult hero because he's such an asshole beforehand, and he has a genuinely super rough backstory. This one made me cry, but I also found it very sexy and like, full of tension throughout because our hero and heroine do initially have a very transactional relationship that gradually becomes more genuinely emotional.
Between the Devil and Desire is one I'd argue could possibly rival Waking Up with the Duke for the crown, because it just hits every beat. A snappy, rough hero who doesn't seem to care about anyone; a chilly, bitchy (yet incredibly horny) widow who sees him as a threat on every level. One of the only children in romance who WORKS and that's because Jack Dodger is the ULTIMATE father who stepped up in romance, imo. Fabulous.
The Scoundrel in Her Bed is a recent favorite. It's second chance, it's extremely angsty, and it destroyed me emotionally. Like. This one probably made me cry the most out of any of the Lorraine books I've read because it just really luxuriated in how like. Sometimes love doesn't fix everything that's gone wrong because love isn't a time machine, but we can still move forward and so on and so on. Also, I'm a sucker for a second chance romance, especially one where they like, took each others' precious flowers and then got separated and are both now SUPER BITTER TBH.
Scoundrel of My Heart is another second chance one where it's like "what happened to us, what did we lose, can we get it back" (no but you can get something new!!!) and obviously I love that shit. It's also one of those second chance books where they were separated when they were just beginning, and they never got to have sex, and now they're back in each other's orbit and it is TENSE.
#romance novel blogging#romance novels#book recs#tbh most of the books i've read by lorraine i would for sure recommend#there are a couple that i wanna reread sooooon and i have a feeling they'll be in top spots
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Hi Hello, I know I haven't talked a lot about CR lately (my brain won't let me watch it for some reason) but I'm back to talk about The Legend of Vox Machina, particularly: Grog.
Spoilers for The Legend of Vox Machina episode 9 below. There will be spoilers for the stream too, but I will also mark down where those start.
I love love love all the changes. Not only do I think they're a great way to adapt the absolute beast of content that CR is. Some are good sacrifices, there's shit gotta leave out, no matter how entertaining. I think they've pick very well what to leave completely out. Also, they're really smart in the way they've fused different adventures so they can have a two for one (like adding stuff from the rakshasa fight to the dungeon crawl at the Matron's temple so they can have that Kashaw-Kiki interactions). And of course there's the switching the order so it's more streamlined thing too, like Pyra. But what I thought was the best decision was the party splitting on the past three episodes.
Sure, you should never split the party and I hope they don't abuse that solution or that at least they play with the different combinations because it can be a detriment to the group dynamic. But this time?? They nailed it.
The fey wild group was perfect, you have all the development you need for the ships and also Vax and Percy get to patch things up a little and the twins are together for the family reunion. you have all the people important for a Vex Arc on one side.
On the other hand, you have Grog go through his arc with the two people most important to him. I love the Vax-Grog Dynamic, but like in the OG fight against the Earth breaker, his first choice will always be Pike and his second Scanlan. Also, you get some cute gnome flirting and a bit more development for Scanlan since Pike is the one that challenges more his flirty nature. Vex and Percy are permanently done with him, but they treat it like something that's just intrinsic to Scanlan. You can't change the weather, you simply complain about it. Pike on the other hand is the one that gets frustrated at the fact that Scanlan is unable to have a proper heart to heart or to be sentimental without defusing the tension. And Grog bringing out Scanlan's more caring nature is a nice touch. So it is the perfect team for Scanlan progress too.
But going back to what I actually wanted to talk about (because my Scanlan Meta will come too, but most likely next week) Grog. I love what they did with Craven Edge, I love how the show allows them to have this more "feelings based" resolution to Craven Edge's exhaustion. Because in game greater restoration or a night's sleep heal literally anything unless the DM specifically requests it.
What this does is it gives them the chance to introduce the whole "where does your strength come from?" Question in a place where the stakes are super high and it's thematically appropriate. That whole speech about how Grog considers strength helping those who can't help themselves...chills.
Now spoilers for the stream
I think it also Segways brilliantly into the whole "My strength are my friends" by maybe combining it with the whole "Vox Machina...Fuck shit up". If that happens, I'm gonna cry so hard I will dehydrate. I love the fact that they are giving so much attention to Grog, his growth his emotions because they're often brushed off. Travis wasn't still super comfortable roleplaying emotional scenes in campaign one and Tal, Liam and Marisha had a lot os experience and really angsty characters. Also Laura and Sam are just that powerful, you can't expect most people's experience first character to be that emotionally vulnerable (specially while streaming).
Ashley was also more nervous with the streaming and stuff, so Pike and Grog while not underdeveloped at all, usually didn't have the emotional spotlight on them the way we're seeing in the show. I think giving Grog the physical vulnerability and stripping most of his companions away is a great way to allow that depth to shine. When you don't have four extra characters each making questions and each proposing solutions, the spotlight shines directly on Grog and I love it.
I've always treasured those rare moments were Grog gets to open up and show his heart. I really love that trope of big dumb character also has emotional complexity, so I really enjoyed the last episode and I can't wait for the next one.
#critical role#critical role meta#the legend of vox machina spoilers#the legend of vox machina#tlovm spoilers#tlovm#grog strongjaw#scanlan shorthalt#pike trickfoot#cr
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random trigun thoughts from discord
trigun is heavy on the genderqueer themes in regards to otherness and how the relationship between one's body impacts the formation of identity. read some posts about knives over the last few days and how his experience with othering which began from his body contributed to the formation of his identity as something separate from humans. There's also the parallel readings of Trigun as being about dual identities, for example people of mixed ethnicity or diaspora culture
Roberto de Niro is the babygirl of the party. vash is my little sweetiepie. (no seriously studio orange kidnapped acclaimed A list hollywood celebrity actor robert de niro using a time machine to 2009). Followup on why roberto is in stampede: to die and give meryl character growth. So that she has an angsty backstory of course, and to give her a gun.
dmc came out in 2001 so it and trigun are from the same era, so the similarities might be more a 90s 2000s thing. A lot of 90s stuff was grimdark edgy cyberpunk-esque so that would explain vash and dante's leather strap bdsm gear outfits. Gotta love a man decked out in bdsm gear. red blue twins, one of them is evil and the other on the side of humanity. Oh there is the whole dual identity thing with both twins too and the christianity. But atmosphere and concept are very different. Dmc is more gothic and demon hunting. Trigun is a space western mad max style. Both series: dead mom no dad lol. Stronger similarities to dmc in the manga where Plants have angel imagery (both the common dove wing and the biblically accurate eldritch). Vash and dante red/black devil imagery to knives and virgil white/blue angel imagery. Though this is fairly common, devilman's ryo and asuka, berserk's guts and griffith, the two gays from world ends with you. Vash and knives in stampede have additional contrasts with knives powers being sharp mechanical and vash's organic. Knives never wears clothes made by noman land's humans. Vash only wears clothes made on no mans land. Both have stuff from the spacefaring age/lost technology.
Plants in stampede instead emphasize the competing strategies of surviving on a desert world: plants (terraforming) vs. Plants (magic generators). Manga Plants are so weird there like a dozen plucked rotisserie chickens growing out of a girls neck and 2 human bodies attached to 1 head. there isn't just the sheer amount of energy Plants produce but magic portal dimensioning organic matter (which if you think about it is also a form of slow terraforming since you are adding organic matter and water into the biogeochemical cycles of the planet).
Speaking of trigun, all this talk of human survival and terraforming reminds me of the red mars movement which is a fictional movement from a novel of the same name. Say humans do terraform mars/gunsmoke/nomansland and make it more hospital to humans. Sure that's good for humans but in a way its bad for the planet as its pre-human characteristics would be lost forever. Being better for humans isn't the same as ethically good and just because something is useless to humans doesn't mean it doesn't have intrinsic value in just existing. This is more significant in stampede where vash was a "useless" Plant that didn't produce anything (as opposed the manga where vash and naj were of equal power). In making planets more like earth all we get are half baked earth clones and what is lost is what make those inhospitable planet unique and different from Earth. The humans of trigun stampede see nomans land as a resource to be used and molded to their needs, just as they see Plants, even "good" characters like rem or luida.The manga has (or at least stampede is yet to have) the layer that terraforming projects are seen as both literal and metaphorical gardens of eden/a good thing for gunsmoke
Studio orange renaming the planet nomans land reminds me of the fictional town nowhere. Gunsmoke wasnt a bad name either i mean we have a dude calling himself millions knives. I find these fiction english lang names to be charming
"While showing the twins the geranium flower, Nai turns to Rem and asks if it's just ornamental, like the one in the Plant room. Rem's face pauses into a Wait, What? expression before she masks it praising Nai for his observational skill. When Knives shows Vash the next memory from that incident, there is a geranium flower being held in a vase, but it's in the room where Tesla's body is being kept implicitly as a memorial for her. Nai is already showing signs of distrust towards humans and Rem's true intentions towards him and Vash.
The geraniums being ornamental also offers parallels to the suspended remains of Tesla, as red things kept in glass to be admired and looked at.
It parallels how he comes to view Vash as well — useless, fragile, without volition of his own, but still precious and to be protected. Sealed away, if necessary, from whatever might consume him. Of course, 'something to be consumed' is how he believes humans view both him and Vash, even as he uses Vash for resources himself." (Someone on tvtropes). The connection of red flowers in glass cases to dying Plants or Plants in general in cases
Idk about 98 since it looked like filler to me but between maximum and stampede they changed up the twins childhoods. (I like both, both takes are interesting and compelling). In stampede they had an unequal childhood dynamic with nai being the powerful useful one that had Plant powers and vash the weak useless one who could generate anything and didnt have plant powers and he did was eat and sleep, just like a human. This sets up in both their minds as knives being the protector and vash the protected. Vash as the weak human one, nai as the powerful greater than human one. As the weaker more human one a few of us fans extrapolate that its likely vash got more attention and care than nai (gifted child neglect). Because vash was the weaker one he need more care and since nai was powerful, self sufficient, and independent of course he'd be fine on his own
I dont have a preference between stampede wolfwood and manga wolfwood (mostly because im not a shipper, they seem to prefer manga wolfwood). Stampede sets up an interesting character contrast where all the main characters look 25. Vasha and knives are older than they look and are like in their 150s while by contrast wolfwood is younger than he looks, stampede is vague on the age but he acts like a sassy middle schooler so idk he might actually be 12 (which i find very funny and alao why). And then we have meryl who is a normal 20 something. (23? I dont remember). Manga sets up a different contrast with wolfwood actually being 25 (maybe time isnt real on gunsmoke) but looking like he's 40. I will say wolfwood and vash have infinitely more chemistry in the manga like they have an actual dynamic thats touches core parts of both characters while also being entertaining to watch. Shippers are wack and can spin cotton from nothing so the presence of shippers really only ever indicates 2 male characters exist but oh there is definitely something going on in the manga where there isn't in stampede. Manga wolfwood also has a more unique concept in the manga than in stampede (so far) as the manga fans like to say: they took his melanin, they took his nose, they took his tits, they took his job, they took his scoliosis, and they took his boyfriend
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Run away.
Young Tangerine and Lemon, angsty.
This is really bad btw. I'm sorry.
"Elliott! Come on! Jump!" Thomas shouted, holding a backpack full of snacks and other things the twins needed. Elliott looked down at his brother before jumping out of the window. Thomas caught him, setting him down before stroking his soft, black hair.
"We've got to go get to the shed." Thomas said, as they walked out of their parents yard. They had been drinking all night, meaning the place would be unsafe. For Thomas and Elliott, but really all that mattered to Thomas is that his little brother wouldn't get hurt again.
They walked along the side of the road, rain starting to pour. Elliott clinging onto Thomas arm like he was going to lose him. "We've gotta get there soon or the fucking rain is gonna take us out" Thomas stated, before noticing Elliotts legs were giving out, must have a lot of injuries. They were covered in bruises.
"Thomas..." Elliott whined. "I can't walk any longer" his tiny voice cracked as Thomas looked down at him. "The shed is just a little bit further." Thomas then stopped as a car passed by. He picked up little Elliott and carried him the rest of the way while he sobbed into his brother's vest.
Eventually, they made it to the shed. It was in the middle of nowhere and Thomas and Elliott had made it their, safe space. The only place their parents could never find.
Thomas stepped inside, coughing as dirt and dust flew around him. He then set down Elliott and unzipped the bag, taking out a pillow and a blanket and laying them along the rusty floor. Along with a Thomas the Tank Engine plush, Elliott's favorite toy. "Go on, lay down. You'll be okay, Lemon drop. I'll keep watch" Thomas then stood up but Elliott yelled "Wait!".
Thomas looked back, "Stay with me." Elliott begged. "I can't, I've got to keep us safe." he then got the sleeve of his button-up pulled. Elliott wrapped his arms around Thomas, "Stay." Elliott said.
Thomas looked at his little brother. "Okay, I can stay. Just for the night" Thomas grabbed his own blanket and wrapped it around them both. "I love you" he heard Elliott whisper, letting go of his plush. "I love you too, now go to sleep." Thomas whispered.
Soon Elliott fell asleep and Thomas got up. He couldn't stay with him, no matter how much he wanted to. It's not safe for either of them.
He wished he could wrap his arms around his little brother and tell him 'everything is going to be okay' and it finally be true. They couldn't stay with their parents any longer. At least Elliott couldn't.
He thought about leaving him here, hoping some happy couple would find him and give him the life he deserves. A better life, without his fucked up older brother. But could Elliott ever forgive him for that? No. He couldn't.
How dare his older brother leave him? In a shed out of all things? It would be a awful aftermath if they met up again. He looked at his brother from the door of the shed and felt tears well up in his eyes. He then backed up and locked the door, laying next to Elliott again on the dirty floor.
He looked down at his necklace and he thought about it. One day, Elliott would be the owner of it. The day they finally separate. The day Thomas would be dead and soon Elliott as well.
Hopefully that day never comes.
Or would it?
Thomas then shook his head and closed his eyes. That day would never come.
Lemon then looked up at Ladybug as he was almost done telling his story, "He always thought that day would never fucking come" he laughed, tears running down his face, holding Thomas's necklace in his hand. "He really fucking didn't".
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Dude.
Selkies.
Selkies.
I feel like I did see someone else mention submas twins as selkies, but I cannot for the life of me remember who it was. But YES. Just. Sweet seal men, in awe that you, a human, have returned their coat to them - which, unbeknownst to you, means you’re now married. Congratulations!
Or even just them pining for you every time you go visit the beach during your vacation; them deliberately dropping their coat nearby for you to pick up.
Even better, if you want some angst or a bit of action, one or both of the selkie twins caught by a lab, (could be run by legit marine biologists, or by some evil team wanting to capture and sell mythical creatures to the highest bidder) with you as one of the scientists/an intern. You can bond with them, gain their trust, and depending on the direction you want this to go, you can help reunite them, or they decide to stay near the shore just to visit you when you go do research - OR! You can help break them out of the facility and back into the ocean. Maybe you hide them until they can get back home; maybe they have to help you go into hiding to evade the evil Team. Gotta keep their new mate safe!
~
As for the Marble Carver au, it’s like the story of Pygmalion, the man who carved a woman from ivory and fell in love with her, so Aphrodite made her come to life. Except it’s submas~
I have a soft spot for Emmet, but it could be either twin as the Pygmalion stand-in. (Or hell, it could even be the reader insert, carving themself a husband.)
I was originally thinking just a short, cute, romantic au, but then I realized it could also be kind of angsty if we want to say the carver is trying to bring a dead/missing loved one back to life, (like a fusion of Pygmalion and Orpheus.)
Another option is to add elements of horror to it - like some kind of Ib (fucking adore that game) fusion, or maybe the “scrapped” carvings are alive as well, but aren’t actually... you know. Right. Just, something a liiiiiittle uncanny.
Maybe Emmet tries to bring Ingo back by carving him a new body but something else takes it over? Or one of the boys tries to resurrect their dead s/o, to a similar effect. Or it is them but it isn’t. Or the entire other way around, with the s/o trying to resurrect one/both of the boys - or even just a dark version of the myth where they carve the statue and it comes to life but it’s not a happy ending.
I just. Have so much to write and I can’t choose what to do first. XD
#spark speaks#antidotesprout#listen i would love to hash this out with someone y'all come tell me what to start with#submas#pygmalion au#selkie au
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I made a Submas au and am finally here to share it :> (Aka the World Wanderer Ingo post after all this time)
ANGST WARNING: IF YOU HAVE TROUBLE WITH INGO-CENTRIC ANGST ITS ADVISABLE YOU STEER CLEAR OF THIS! I'm a bad judge of my own angsty content but I want everyone to be safe. I will be placing the content under a read more.
So.
AUs.
Gotta love them!
Love them so much I finally managed to make another. I have one currently private (it's for a roleplay) that, believe it or not, is super sad and angsty. After I made it, I knew I wanted one I could share immediately, but I struggled. That is, until one day when I was vacuuming while blaring Ghost Towns by Radical Face into my ears. My thoughts drifted to Volo's betrayal and the abilities Giratina could possess, and suddenly and very much against my will, World Wanderer Ingo was born.
You may be asking: Kookie, you've said the name 'World Wanderer Ingo' twice now. Why?? Just get to the po-
OK
Yeah.
The point.
The World Wanderer Ingo AU (Or just World Wanderer Ingo) is fairly derivative of canon in the sense that Ingo accompanies the protagonist in the fight with Volo.
We do not know the powers of Giratina, do we? No. Who said Giratina can't curse people? Well I sure said it could, and that's precisely what it did. Well, it was GOING to curse the protagonist, but someone just H A D to get in the way.
So now Ingo's in a bit of a predicament. I mean, getting cursed can't be fun, and Giratina wasn't exactly being lenient with this one, either. As in, now he's getting sent to a new corner of the Pokemon Multiverse every month. Any universe or time period is game... except for his actual time. He gets a month in each place and then he's in another.
Not to mention he may or may not be Immortal now. And cannot die.
What a fun time.
The only bright side is that he's experiencing time differently than his own- he could spend 3 years getting thrown around and it would only actually be 3 weeks. Not that he knows that, and it sure seems weird that it works that way. Blame it on the difference between universes.
Basically all of these decisions (the immortality, inability to die, and time differences) are plot convenience so I can still give this a semi-happy ending when I feel it's finished. Haha :)
I would really appreciate asks about universes he could end up in- from mystery dungeon-esque worlds to alternate universes to Ultra Beast planes, I am basically up for anything. Mostly because I am out of ideas.
If you decide to send an Ask about a universe he could wind up in, please don't be too descriptive with any gore you might use.
Once again, anything is game
As long as you don't send any incest ship asks. Please don't do that I'm a twin myself and it makes me uncomfortable. That's all I ask. Please keep it to yourself with this.
I want to write some fics for this and I have a song (it's Ghost Towns) downloaded for an animatic too. Idk if those will come to fruition but yeah. If you have any ideas or just,, like this incredibly not-developed concept please tell me because I will be incredibly happy.
So yeah I have a dumb au now
I think I might have left out some stuff I made on accident,,, send asks I'll share it. If I can remember what it was.
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Stay With Me CH-3
*WARNING: This Chapter has Angsty content, Please skip this chapter if you are uncomfortable with such content. Reading past this Paragraph you are consenting to read such content. If you find this not up to your taste, don't report it and just click off. You are not the only one who reads on this app Thank You! *
TONY'S POV
I was just accessing all of S.H.I.E.L.D's files which even remotely had Y/N written somewhere, anywhere. I came across this file which had the Avengers logo on it.
I tried to access it but, Fury is a smart bastard and had put a lock on it. Fury ain't the only smart one in this world
Tony quickly managed to open the file and found a very straightforward letter from Fury, Y/N Maximoff is to be assigned as an Avenger. There was a condition for her to become an Avenger, she had to successfully capture all of the Avengers despite their abilities.
Just as Tony realised what the letter meant JARVIS sent an alert for finding the exact location of Y/N Maximoff. As Tony asked even further about her, Peter got ready to strike as he heard the location but suddenly a purple ball of power came in through the glass shattering it entirely and just in time Tony's suit came completely over his body.
"Banner you want a piece?" Tony said as he analyzed the situation activating his thrusters ready for the attack as all the Avengers assembled and were in combat-ready positions, even Thor and Loki were there.
" I want a piece, a BIG one," Peter said, burning with rage as he saw his imitator.
"First, That's what she said and second, do you wanna do this the easy way or hard?" Y/N said being very confident.
"Listen, kid, you really gotta think of some other way. Maybe with you behaving less hostile and we too can put our weapons away" Steve said to keep the fight at bay.
"Oh... The fossil is still alive?" Y/N questioned being very sarcastic.
"Yeah, sadly," Pietro said faking sympathy.
"Anyways, How are my favourite cousins?" Y/N said cheerfully
"We're fine, here you go. Pietro will help with the rest" Wanda said handing Y/N an assortment of things
"JARVIS? Give me a scan of all that" Tony said confused as none of his reports said anything about the Maximoff twins being cousins of Y/N.
"YES SIR" JARVIS replied, instantly getting to work.
"JARVIS? Find something?" Tony asked as things started to get blurry.
"SIR YOU ARE SLIPPING INTO A HEADSPACE. PLEASE PULL YOURSELF OUT OF IT. WE MIGHT FACE SOME SERIOUS BRAIN ISSUES. SIR? SIR!?"
Why does everything feel so weird? Why is JARVIS so tense? Where am I? Am I on the old Avengers tower? Is that Pepper?! Is she on the railing?!!
"PEPPER?! HONEY?! GET DOWN FROM THERE!! LISTEN WE CAN TALK THIS THROUGH, YEAH? MAYBE GET A COFFEE BUT FIRST GET DOWN FROM THERE AND COME OVER HERE"
"No Tony, I deserve this" Pepper said as she jumped off the railing
Tony ran after her in an attempt to save her but failed as his surroundings changed again and now he was in a dungeon, bound to the wall, with no chance to escape or move, the love of his life getting tortured right in front of him, a voice whispering in his ear which isn't exactly pleasant.
"GET ME OUT OF HERE!! I SWEAR YOU ARE SO DEAD AFTER THIS AND I PROMISE YOU YOU ARE NOT GOING TO GO WELL!! WHEN I'M DONE WITH YOU NO ONE WILL EVEN BE ABLE TO FIND YOUR DEAD BODY" Tony screamed as Pepper started to laugh.
"Pepper are you okay?! Why are you laughing??" Tony asked worriedly. His main weakness was someone harming Pepper and to see it happening in front of him pained him to just watch.
"WELCOME TO THE PANIC ROOM," Pepper suddenly started singing as Tony started feeling chills down his spine
"Honey, what is the Panic Room? And why are you singing that," Tony asked hyperventilating
"IT'S A PLACE WHERE ALL YOUR DARKEST FEARS ARE GONNA COME FOR YOU..." Pepper continued
"Pepper can you please stop singing like that?! It's creeping me out and where exactly are we?!" Tony asked, he really was now losing it
"WELCOME TO THE PANIC ROOM, YOU KNOW I WASN'T JOKING WHEN YOU SEE THEM TOO" Pepper sang for the last time as she was blasted to bits with a bomb
"NO!! I WILL KILL YOU NOW IF YOU DON'T SHOW YOUR FACE I WILL FIND YOU FROM EVERY CORNER OF THIS EARTH AND EVERY OTHER PLANET, DIMENSION AND UNIVERSE AND NO ONE WILL REMEMBER YOUR EXISTENCE" Tony screamed out in agony as he cried like a baby after seeing the love of his life get killed.
"Stark, never think I'd see you crying"
Who just said that?! Oh they are so dead
"Only if you could kill me, you are in my arena. Behave. I can kill you in seconds but you're one of Fury's favourites so I can't even perform physical torture but for now, this will have to do"
How the hell did she know?! I didn't even say it out loud and who even is this?!
"Oh, Stark... I thought you would know what Mind Reading and Control are. After all, it's my sister whose the strongest Avenger, not to mention the best."
"Okay first of all who are you?! and second, show yourself!" Tony screamed as the air around him started to feel thin
"Damn! You are still alive in the Panic Room?! I didn't expect it. Honestly, you lasted quite long, Even longer than Rogers and Thor"
I can't breathe... I need air...
"Don't worry! You'll be dead before you get any"
"And I'll enjoy it the most"
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